Gabbo Fabbo; Krusty Rusty

Originally uploaded by gooblar.

Hey all! Look! Photoblogging! Oh, the possibilities make me positively giddy. I apologize for my silence since I left your fair shores; that's all over now. Much posting will occur (and that means from you too) from now on.

A brief(ish) rundown of stuff since I left the states:

* Because I'm a stupid, stupid fuck, I put my iPod in my checked baggage. In fact, in the front pocket of a shoulder bag, unprotected by anything. And, of course, it broke. Technically, the thing still works, as music does play. But the screen is almost totally incapacitated, so I can only see about 1/16 of the total area. So, really annoying. And only myself to blame. To change the shuffle on and off is like walking through a maze blindfolded. aargh.

* I've played in 4 (four) poker tournaments at the club since i've been back. Results:

1) Sunday afternoon £10 No-Limit: finished 7th, winning £20 (breaking even, because I re-bought once).
2)Sunday afternoon £10 No-Limit: finished 3rd, winning £145 (profit of £125).
3)Tuesday night £5 Pot-Limit (craziness--157 entrants): finished 19th (the top 18 got paid out; loss of £15).
4)Tuesday night £5 Pot-Limit: finished like 135th or something (loss of £10).

So, up £100 in 2 1/2 weeks. not bad.

* In my attempts at school work, I've been reading alot. Roth's The Professor of Desire and The Facts. Now Deception. A chapter from A. Scott Berg's biography of Charles Lindbergh, about his anti-Semitic, and sorta white supremacist political acts at the beginning of WWII. Working my way through James Atlas's biography of Saul Bellow, which is hella good. Biographies sort of rule. Oh yeah, and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, which was really very good. Still haven't finished my goddamn chapter, and am beginning to suspect that I have some Freudian-like wish to never quite finish it, so I can never quite move on the the next thing. I have, though, edited my MA dissertation down to half the size, with the idea of submitting it to a journal. So, at least something.

* This British "summer" sucks. I've got a cold.

* Maybe Contreras would be more comfortable if his family was actually out on the mound with him when he pitches against the Red Sox. Just a thought.